


there's only one way down this road

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Kamen Rider Wizard
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Enemies to Lovers, Internal Conflict, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 18:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11674362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Haruto struggles with what this is between them and Sora, as always, struggles with himself.





	there's only one way down this road

**Author's Note:**

> Haruto/Sora + "Things you said that made me feel like shit."

They admittedly have more kinks to work out in this, whatever it is, than Haruto expected. He thinks this is his fault. He thinks he tried too hard to wound too many times with words alone.

The dark reality of the past is still fresh in his mind, always is and always will be he supposes, because nothing can ever undo the trauma of fighting the Phantoms, of doing his best to protect Koyomi. Nothing can undo the moment he stood in the police department and stared up at the whiteboard and willed the truth to undo itself just this once, for just this one person.

How many times had he told himself that people could change if given the chance to do so? Having their hope restored, being given a second chance to right their wrongs and become new people, or to become the people they once were, the people they should have been. In the end, he never thought Sora would be able to become one of those people. Finding Chiaki in Sora’s little lair had reassured him that while  _ people _ might be able to change,  _ Phantoms _ would never be able to, something that Phoenix’s kidnapping of Rinko had planted the seeds for. Phantoms might take advantage of people by pretending, but they were simply monsters.

He finds himself wandering into the kitchen, keeping one hand on the wall, mindful of his feet and the fact it’s just past three in the morning and he should be back in bed. But the other side of the bed is currently empty, and while he knows he should leave well enough alone and not test the tenuous grip Sora has on his humanity, on what they are and what they are trying to accomplish together, on what they  _ are. _ Haruto should go back to bed and let Sora do whatever it is he’s gotten out of bed to do, and if he chooses not to come back to bed, so be it.

Still, he finds himself standing in the kitchen, unsurprised to see a few candles set upon its surface, the flames flickering in the darkness. Sora sits at the table, a pile of books in front of him, head bent over them, but Haruto can read the lines of tension in his shoulders and wonders if Sora has given himself even a minute’s rest or if he waited for Haruto to fall asleep.

“What are you doing up?” he finally asks, dropping himself down at the table in an empty chair, slumping against the shape of it, letting the hard wood dig into his back.

Sora doesn’t look up at him. “We need an answer, and quickly. So I’m looking for one.”

“You’re not going to sleep at all, then?” Haruto asks, eyeing the books warily.

They had been stolen from Fueki’s house while Sora had been fighting him. Haruto himself had taken them, knowing they needed to find a way to keep Koyomi alive that didn’t involve killing everyone in the city in the process. There had to be a better way somewhere.

“I’m a Phantom.” Sora spits the words out. “I don’t need sleep. You do, though, so go to bed.”

Haruto should do as he’s told this once, he knows that much. He can discern in the way Sora has tied his hair back out of his face, tossed his shawl aside, rolled his sleeves up past his elbows. Sora is serious about this, and Haruto should leave him to his work.

“I’m already awake,” he says, though he knows if he laid back down, he would be out in a matter of minutes. Instead, he pushes himself to his feet and busies himself with making tea, needing the caffeine if he plans to stay awake any longer. “Besides, you shouldn’t be working on this on your own. I’m the one who wants to save her, after all. It isn’t fair.”

Sora says nothing in return and Haruto lets him be, setting a cup of tea by his elbow and sitting down with his own, blowing on the steaming liquid, watching Sora’s eyes comb over the text in front of him. Haruto hasn’t been able to understand it, but maybe Sora does.

“I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere,” Sora finally murmurs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s taken days but I might be onto something that doesn’t require so much sacrifice.”

Haruto’s heart crawls up into his throat. “Really? You got something?”

“Fueki might have put all of this together, but I get the sense he only understood a fraction of the power of the Philosopher’s Stone.” Sora drags a notebook closer to him, uncaps a pen, and starts frantically writing across the page. “But I think I understand it better than him these days.”

Instead of answering Haruto’s unasked question, Sora pushes the notebook toward him, then pulls the book in front of him closer and bows his head over it, studying it with an intensity Haruto has never had for… Well, anything. He wonders sometimes why Sora is so desperate to save Koyomi when he would have killed her for the magic inside of her and the chance to become a normal human once again. He wonders why Sora changed his mind and used his own mana to restore what he could of Koyomi’s life force, to give her a chance to live a little longer, to buy them necessary time needed to save her once again.

“He was so hellbent on resurrecting her soul, but of course that’s not what any of us need to happen. We just need her to live without this restriction on her body.” Sora shakes his head, his eyes rolling slightly, and Haruto frowns at him, not sure he understands. “The Koyomi he knew is dead and gone. What we’re trying to do is save the one we have. It’s a far different goal.”

“Sora?” Haruto hesitates around the shape of his next question, then plunges on ahead, needing the answer. “If we save Koyomi, what happens to the Philosopher’s Stone?”

As he expects, Sora falters. “From my understanding, if we use the Stone this way, it will cease to have any magical value. Makes sense, I suppose, since your magic rings are fueled by your mana and not by themselves.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind one ear; Haruto follows the movement with his eyes. “But she’ll be alive, and that’s what’s important, I think.”

“You’re willing to forfeit your chance to be human again if it means Koyomi gets to live. Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Inside, Haruto isn’t sure what he wants Sora to say to him. It would be selfish to hope for him to say what Haruto thinks is the right thing, after all.

Sora pushes himself up from the table so suddenly the chair scrapes over the floor. “Don’t ask me such stupid questions. I don’t care if you’re sleep-deprived. You should go back to bed.”

“Sora, wait—” Haruto bites his tongue when Sora throws a hand up, a clear indicator for him to stop speaking, Sora’s patience having long since run out.

“I’m going for a walk. I’d prefer if you left me alone.” Sora pushes the chair back in under the table, and Haruto notices he’s not touched his tea. “Don’t wait up for me, either.”

The door swings shut behind him a moment later and Haruto stares at the faded wood for perhaps a total of fifteen seconds before he pushes himself up and grabs his leather jacket off of the coat rack, shrugging it on as he steps into the chilly autumn night. Despite the fact he is a Phantom and could go anywhere he wanted to as quickly as he wanted to, Sora is walking, hands shoved into his pockets and head down, walking purposefully as fast as he can.

This isn’t easy for him, Haruto knows this. Changing sides and forsaking his former ways means giving up on his chance to become human again because the loss of the Philosopher’s Stone would mean Koyomi’s death and the acceptance that he has to live his life the way it is now with no way to change it back. And Haruto knows that Sora has never wanted anything else as much as he wants to be human again, and now that this conflicts with Haruto’s determination to do anything to make sure Koyomi lives, he has to make a choice. And even though he chose what Haruto wanted him to choose, what Haruto was praying he would choose so that this… Whatever it was between them would not fall apart, he knows he had no right to ask this of Sora. As he had pointed out, he was turned into a monster for Koyomi. He had never asked for this life, a life where he felt torn apart and never whole.

“Sora, wait.” Haruto jogs to catch up with him, but Sora doesn’t slow down. “Sora, please just—”

Sora whirls around, the air around him swirling green. “Please just  _ what, _ Haruto?”

“You’re starting to…” Haruto trails off, catching his lip between his teeth, not wanting to say it.

“I can’t help it.” But the air returns to its natural color, Sora’s body still human in shape. He knots his fingers in the front of his shirt, shaking his head. “I can’t when I get upset. I hate this.”

Haruto wishes there was something he could do to change this, but they both know there is nothing. “It’s just… A part of who you are. You shouldn’t hate it.”

“That’s funny, coming from you.” Sora’s entire body tenses. “How many times did you call me  _ that name _ after I asked you not to?”

That question makes Haruto wince, but it’s a fair one. “I shouldn’t have said that, I know.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter in the end, because you’re right.” Sora turns around, starts walking off again. “Gremlin is… All I’ll ever be until I eventually die. That’s all I have left now.”

“It’s not. Sora, that’s not…” Haruto stops to catch up with him, and instead of just reaching for his hand, he wraps his arms around him and pulls him back against his chest. Sora is cold and Haruto squeezes him, trying to keep him as close as possible. “You’re more than just that.”

“Does it even matter? Let’s just go back. If I’m right, we can do this soon, and everything will finally be over. You can both relax.” Sora tries to struggle free; Haruto holds on to him.

“It matters,” he says. “It matters, and you need to hear that. You matter to me.”

Sora laughs, the sound loud and sharp in the quiet night. “No, I don’t. I matter insomuch as I can help you save Koyomi, but after that… There is no after that, is there? We couldn’t be friends. You can’t… After what I did… And that’s fine. Understandable. I wouldn’t, either.”

He stops then, head down, and Haruto presses his face against his hair, still tied back.

“I don’t want you to leave, Sora. What you did… Was terrible. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do everything in your power to do good with the rest of your life.” Haruto turns Sora around in his arms, pressing their foreheads together, just needing Sora close. “And I’ll help you do it.”

“I don’t know why you’d bother. You never liked me. I can’t blame you.” Sora tips his head back, smiling wistfully up at the stars. “It’s fitting, isn’t it? Because gremlins are just monsters.”

Haruto shakes his head, sliding a hand up into Sora’s hair. “Don’t say things like—”

“Dragons are monsters sometimes, but some of them are good creatures. Regal, strong, brave.” Sora looks at him without looking at him. “But gremlins are always monsters. It fits.”

“You don’t have to be a monster. You don’t have to be anything just because someone says that’s what you are. Even if that someone was me,” Haruto reminds him patiently.

Sora sighs at him. “But you weren’t wrong. Doing this one thing for you changes nothing.”

Haruto sighs and shakes his head, pressing a kiss to Sora’s forehead. “Nothing can change the past,” he reasons, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t change your present and work toward a better future. A better version of yourself. And I’ll be here to help you do that.”

Silence lapses between them and Haruto waits for Sora to say something, anything, for him to pull away and take off again. Instead, Sora just rests his head on Haruto’s shoulder, allowing himself to be held, before he finally steps back and heaves a sigh.

“We should go ho— go back,” he says, and he tries for a smile, and though it barely touches his eyes, it’s a good look on him. “It’s late and you really need to get back to bed.”

Haruto shakes his head. “I’m not going back to sleep unless you come with me. I mean that.”

He watches Sora close his eyes, watches him struggle to make a concrete decision, watches the air smoke green for just a breath before the breeze blows it away. In the end, Sora finally nods and takes the hand Haruto offers to him, allowing himself to be taken back to Remnants.

“I’m sorry,” Haruto murmurs, and he almost doesn’t think Sora hears him, but Sora’s hand spasms in his before squeezing tight, and for once things feel almost okay.


End file.
